Thank you. Thank you. Giving all praise and honor to God for bringing us here today.
I must begin 
		because at the Unity breakfast this morning I was saving for last and 
		the list was so long I left him out after that introduction. So I'm 
		going to start by saying how much I appreciate the friendship and the 
		support and the outstanding work that he does each and every day, not 
		just in Capitol Hill but also back here in the district. Please give a 
		warm round of applause for your Congressman 
		
		Artur Davis. 
		
		It is a great honor to be here. Reverend Jackson, thank you so much. To 
		the family of Brown A.M.E, to the good Bishop Kirkland, thank you for 
		your wonderful message and your leadership. 
		
		I want to acknowledge one of the great heroes of American history and 
		American life, somebody who captures the essence of decency and courage, 
		somebody who I have admired all my life and were it not for him, I'm not 
		sure I'd be here today, Congressman John Lewis. 
		
		I'm thankful to him. To all the distinguished guests and clergy, I'm not 
		sure I'm going to thank Reverend Lowery because he stole the show. I was 
		mentioning earlier, I know we've got C.T. Vivian in the audience, and 
		when you have to speak in front of somebody who Martin Luther King said 
		was the greatest preacher he ever heard, then you've got some problems.
		
		
		And I'm a little nervous about following so many great preachers. But 
		I'm hoping that the spirit moves me and to all my colleagues who have 
		given me such a warm welcome, thank you very much for allowing me to 
		speak to you here today. 
		
		You know, several weeks ago, after I had announced that I was running 
		for the Presidency of the United States, I stood in front of the Old 
		State Capitol in Springfield, Illinois; where Abraham Lincoln delivered 
		his speech declaring, drawing in scripture, that a house divided against 
		itself could not stand. 
		
		And I stood and I announced that I was running for the presidency. And 
		there were a lot of commentators, as they are prone to do, who 
		questioned the audacity of a young man like myself, haven't been in 
		Washington too long. 
		
		And I acknowledge that there is a certain presumptuousness about this.
		
		
		But I got a letter from a friend of some of yours named Reverend Otis 
		Moss Jr. in Cleveland, and his son, Otis Moss III is the Pastor at my 
		church and I must send greetings from Dr. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr. but I 
		got a letter giving me encouragement and saying how proud he was that I 
		had announced and encouraging me to stay true to my ideals and my values 
		and not to be fearful. 
		
		And he said, if there's some folks out there who are questioning whether 
		or not you should run, just tell them to look at the story of Joshua 
		because you're part of the Joshua generation. 
		
		So I just want to talk a little about Moses and Aaron and Joshua, 
		because we are in the presence today of a lot of Moseses. We're in the 
		presence today of giants whose shoulders we stand on, people who 
		battled, not just on behalf of African Americans but on behalf of all of 
		America; that battled for America's soul, that shed blood , that endured 
		taunts and formant and in some cases gave -- torment and in some cases 
		gave the full measure of their devotion. 
		
		Like Moses, they challenged Pharaoh, the princes, powers who said that 
		some are atop and others are at the bottom, and that's how it's always 
		going to be. 
		
		There were people like Anna Cooper and Marie Foster and Jimmy Lee 
		Jackson and Maurice Olette, C.T. Vivian, Reverend Lowery, John Lewis, 
		who said we can imagine something different and we know there is 
		something out there for us, too. 
		
		Thank God, He's made us in His image and we reject the notion that we 
		will for the rest of our lives be confined to a station of inferiority, 
		that we can't aspire to the highest of heights, that our talents can't 
		be expressed to their fullest. And so because of what they endured, 
		because of what they marched; they led a people out of bondage. 
		
		They took them across the sea that folks thought could not be parted. 
		They wandered through a desert but always knowing that God was with them 
		and that, if they maintained that trust in God, that they would be all 
		right. And it's because they marched that the next generation hasn't 
		been bloodied so much. 
		
		It's because they marched that we elected councilmen, congressmen. It is 
		because they marched that we have Artur Davis and Keith Ellison. It is 
		because they marched that I got the kind of education I got, a law 
		degree, a seat in the Illinois senate and ultimately in the United 
		States senate.
		
		It is because they marched that I stand before you here today. I was 
		mentioning at the Unity Breakfast this morning, my -- at the Unity 
		Breakfast this morning that my debt is even greater than that because 
		not only is my career the result of the work of the men and women who we 
		honor here today. My very existence might not have been possible had it 
		not been for some of the folks here today. I mentioned at the Unity 
		Breakfast that a lot of people been asking, well, you know, your father 
		was from Africa, your mother, she's a white woman from Kansas. I'm not 
		sure that you have the same experience. 
		
		And I tried to explain, you don't understand. You see, my Grandfather 
		was a cook to the British in Kenya. Grew up in a small village and all 
		his life, that's all he was -- a cook and a house boy. And that's what 
		they called him, even when he was 60 years old. They called him a house 
		boy. They wouldn't call him by his last name. 
		
		Sound familiar? 
		
		He had to carry a passbook around because Africans in their own land, in 
		their own country, at that time, because it was a British colony, could 
		not move about freely. They could only go where they were told to go. 
		They could only work where they were told to work. 
		
		Yet something happened back here in Selma, Alabama. Something happened 
		in Birmingham that sent out what Bobby Kennedy called, "Ripples of hope 
		all around the world." Something happened when a bunch of women decided 
		they were going to walk instead of ride the bus after a long day of 
		doing somebody else's laundry, looking after somebody else's children. 
		When men who had PhD's decided that's enough and we're going to stand up 
		for our dignity. 
		
		That sent a shout across oceans so that my grandfather began to imagine 
		something different for his son. His son, who grew up herding goats in a 
		small village in Africa could suddenly set his sights a little higher 
		and believe that maybe a black man in this world had a chance. 
		
		What happened in Selma, Alabama and Birmingham also stirred the 
		conscience of the nation. It worried folks in the White House who said, 
		"You know, we're battling Communism. How are we going to win hearts and 
		minds all across the world? If right here in our own country, John, 
		we're not observing the ideals set fort in our Constitution, we might be 
		accused of being hypocrites." So the Kennedy's decided we're going to do 
		an air lift. We're going to go to Africa and start bringing young 
		Africans over to this country and give them scholarships to study so 
		they can learn what a wonderful country America is. 
		
		This young man named Barack Obama got one of those tickets and came over 
		to this country. He met this woman whose great 
		great-great-great-grandfather had owned slaves; but she had a good idea 
		there was some craziness going on because they looked at each other and 
		they decided that we know that the world as it has been it might not be 
		possible for us to get together and have a child. There was something 
		stirring across the country because of what happened in Selma, Alabama, 
		because some folks are willing to march across a bridge. So they got 
		together and Barack Obama Jr. was born. So don't tell me I don't have a 
		claim on Selma, Alabama. Don't tell me I'm not coming home to Selma, 
		Alabama. 
		
		I'm here because somebody marched. I'm here because you all sacrificed 
		for me. I stand on the shoulders of giants. I thank the Moses 
		generation; but we've got to remember, now, that Joshua still had a job 
		to do. As great as Moses was, despite all that he did, leading a people 
		out of bondage, he didn't cross over the river to see the Promised Land. 
		God told him your job is done. You'll see it. You'll be at the mountain 
		top and you can see what I've promised. What I've promised to Abraham 
		and Isaac and Jacob. You will see that I've fulfilled that promise but 
		you won't go there. 
		
		We're going to leave it to the Joshua generation to make sure it 
		happens. There are still battles that need to be fought; some rivers 
		that need to be crossed. Like Moses, the task was passed on to those who 
		might not have been as deserving, might not have been as courageous, 
		find themselves in front of the risks that their parents and 
		grandparents and great grandparents had taken. That doesn't mean that 
		they don't still have a burden to shoulder, that they don't have some 
		responsibilities. The previous generation, the Moses generation, pointed 
		the way. They took us 90% of the way there. We still got that 10% in 
		order to cross over to the other side. So the question, I guess, that I 
		have today is what's called of us in this Joshua generation? What do we 
		do in order to fulfill that legacy; to fulfill the obligations and the 
		debt that we owe to those who allowed us to be here today?
		
		Now, I don't think we could ever fully repay that debt. I think that 
		we're always going to be looking back, but there are at least a few 
		suggestions that I would have in terms of how we might fulfill that 
		enormous legacy. The first is to recognize our history. John Lewis 
		talked about why we're here today. But I worry sometimes -- we've got 
		black history month, we come down and march every year, once a year. We 
		occasionally celebrate the various events of the Civil Rights Movement, 
		we celebrate Dr. King's birthday, but it strikes me that understanding 
		our history and knowing what it means, is an everyday activity. 
		
		Moses told the Joshua generation; don't forget where you came from. I 
		worry sometimes, that the Joshua generation in its success forgets where 
		it came from. Thinks it doesn't have to make as many sacrifices. Thinks 
		that the very height of ambition is to make as much money as you can, to 
		drive the biggest car and have the biggest house and wear a Rolex watch 
		and get your own private jet, get some of that Oprah money. And I think 
		that's a good thing. There's nothing wrong with making money, but if you 
		know your history, then you know that there is a certain poverty of 
		ambition involved in simply striving just for money. Materialism alone 
		will not fulfill the possibilities of your existence. You have to fill 
		that with something else. You have to fill it with the golden rule. 
		You've got to fill it with thinking about others. And if we know our 
		history, then we will understand that that is the highest mark of 
		service. 
		
		Second thing that the Joshua generation needs to understand is that the 
		principles of equality that were set fort and were battled for have to 
		be fought each and every day. It is not a one-time thing. I was 
		remarking at the unity breakfast on the fact that the single most 
		significant concern that this justice department under this 
		administration has had with respect to discrimination has to do with 
		affirmative action. That they have basically spent all their time 
		worrying about colleges and universities around the country that are 
		given a little break to young African Americans and Hispanics to make 
		sure that they can go to college, too.
		
		I had a school in southern Illinois that set up a program for PhD's in 
		math and science for African Americans. And the reason they had set it 
		up is because we only had less than 1% of the PhD's in science and math 
		go to African Americans. At a time when we are competing in a global 
		economy, when we're not competing just against folks in North Carolina 
		or Florida or California, we're competing against folks in China and 
		India and we need math and science majors, this university thought this 
		might be a nice thing to do. And the justice department wrote them a 
		letter saying we are going to threaten to sue you for reverse 
		discrimination unless you cease this program. 
		
		And it reminds us that we still got a lot of work to do, and that the 
		basic enforcement of anti-discrimination laws, the injustice that still 
		exists within our criminal justice system, the disparity in terms of how 
		people are treated in this country continues. It has gotten better. And 
		we should never deny that it's gotten better. But we shouldn't forget 
		that better is not good enough. That until we have absolute equality in 
		this country in terms of people being treated on the basis of their 
		color or their gender, that that is something that we've got to continue 
		to work on and the Joshua generation has a significant task in making 
		that happen. 
		
		Third thing -- we've got to recognize that we fought for civil rights, 
		but we've still got a lot of economic rights that have to be dealt with. 
		We've got 46 million people uninsured in this country despite spending 
		more money on health care than any nation on earth. It makes no sense. 
		As a consequence, we've got what's known as a health care disparity in 
		this nation because many of the uninsured are African American or 
		Latino. Life expectancy is lower. Almost every disease is higher within 
		minority communities. The health care gap. 
		
		Blacks are less likely in their schools to have adequate funding. We 
		have less-qualified teachers in those schools. We have fewer textbooks 
		in those schools. We got in some schools rats outnumbering computers. 
		That's called the achievement gap. You've got a health care gap and 
		you've got an achievement gap. You've got Katrina still undone. I went 
		down to New Orleans three weeks ago. It still looks bombed out. Still 
		not rebuilt. When 9/11 happened, the federal government had a special 
		program of grants to help rebuild. They waived any requirement that 
		Manhattan would have to pay 10% of the cost of rebuilding. When 
		Hurricane Andrew happened in Florida, 10% requirement, they waived it 
		because they understood that some disasters are so devastating that we 
		can't expect a community to rebuild. New Orleans -- the largest national 
		catastrophe in our history, the federal government says where's your 
		10%? 
		
		There is an empathy gap. There is a gap in terms of sympathizing for the 
		folks in New Orleans. It's not a gap that the American people felt 
		because we saw how they responded. But somehow our government didn't 
		respond with that same sense of compassion, with that same sense of 
		kindness. And here is the worst part, the tragedy in New Orleans 
		happened well before the hurricane struck because many of those 
		communities, there were so many young men in prison, so many kids 
		dropping out, so little hope.
A hope gap. A hope gap that still pervades too many communities all 
		across the country and right here in Alabama. So the question is, then, 
		what are we, the Joshua generation, doing to close those gaps? Are we 
		doing every single thing that we can do in Congress in order to make 
		sure that early education is adequately funded and making sure that we 
		are raising the minimum wage so people can have dignity and respect? 
		
		Are we ensuring that, if somebody loses a job, that they're getting 
		retrained? And that, if they've lost their health care and pension, 
		somebody is there to help them get back on their feet? Are we making 
		sure we're giving a second chance to those who have strayed and gone to 
		prison but want to start a new life? Government alone can't solve all 
		those problems, but government can help. It's the responsibility of the 
		Joshua generation to make sure that we have a government that is as 
		responsive as the need that exists all across America. That brings me to 
		one other point, about the Joshua generation, and that is this -- that 
		it's not enough just to ask what the government can do for us-- it's 
		important for us to ask what we can do for ourselves. 
		
		One of the signature aspects of the civil rights movement was the degree 
		of discipline and fortitude that was instilled in all the people who 
		participated. Imagine young people, 16, 17, 20, 21, backs straight, eyes 
		clear, suit and tie, sitting down at a lunch counter knowing somebody is 
		going to spill milk on you but you have the discipline to understand 
		that you are not going to retaliate because in showing the world how 
		disciplined we were as a people, we were able to win over the conscience 
		of the nation. I can't say for certain that we have instilled that same 
		sense of moral clarity and purpose in this generation. Bishop, sometimes 
		I feel like we've lost it a little bit. 
		
		I'm fighting to make sure that our schools are adequately funded all 
		across the country. With the inequities of relying on property taxes and 
		people who are born in wealthy districts getting better schools than 
		folks born in poor districts and that's now how it's supposed to be. 
		That's not the American way. but I'll tell you what -- even as I fight 
		on behalf of more education funding, more equity, I have to also say 
		that , if parents don't turn off the television set when the child comes 
		home from school and make sure they sit down and do their homework and 
		go talk to the teachers and find out how they're doing, and if we don't 
		start instilling a sense in our young children that there is nothing to 
		be ashamed about in educational achievement, I don't know who taught 
		them that reading and writing and conjugating your verbs was something 
		white. 
		
		We've got to get over that mentality. That is part of what the Moses 
		generation teaches us, not saying to ourselves we can't do something, 
		but telling ourselves that we can achieve. We can do that. We got power 
		in our hands. Folks are complaining about the quality of our government, 
		I understand there's something to be complaining about. I'm in 
		Washington. I see what's going on. I see those powers and principalities 
		have snuck back in there, that they're writing the energy bills and the 
		drug laws. 
		
		We understand that, but I'll tell you what. I also know that, if cousin 
		Pookie would vote, get off the couch and register some folks and go to 
		the polls, we might have a different kind of politics. That's what the 
		Moses generation teaches us. Take off your bedroom slippers. Put on your 
		marching shoes. Go do some politics. Change this country! That's what we 
		need. We have too many children in poverty in this country and everybody 
		should be ashamed, but don't tell me it doesn't have a little to do with 
		the fact that we got too many daddies not acting like daddies. Don't 
		think that fatherhood ends at conception. I know something about that 
		because my father wasn't around when I was young and I struggled. 
		
		Those of you who read my book know. I went through some difficult times. 
		I know what it means when you don't have a strong male figure in the 
		house, which is why the hardest thing about me being in politics 
		sometimes is not being home as much as I'd like and I'm just blessed 
		that I've got such a wonderful wife at home to hold things together. 
		Don't tell me that we can't do better by our children, that we can't 
		take more responsibility for making sure we're instilling in them the 
		values and the ideals that the Moses generation taught us about 
		sacrifice and dignity and honesty and hard work and discipline and 
		self-sacrifice. That comes from us. We've got to transmit that to the 
		next generation and I guess the point that I'm making is that the civil 
		rights movement wasn't just a fight against the oppressor; it was also a 
		fight against the oppressor in each of us. 
		
		Sometimes it's easy to just point at somebody else and say it's their 
		fault, but oppression has a way of creeping into it. Reverend, it has a 
		way of stunting yourself. You start telling yourself, Bishop, I can't do 
		something. I can't read. I can't go to college. I can't start a 
		business. I can't run for Congress. I can't run for the presidency. 
		People start telling you-- you can't do something, after a while, you 
		start believing it and part of what the civil rights movement was about 
		was recognizing that we have to transform ourselves in order to 
		transform the world. Mahatma Gandhi, great hero of Dr. King and the 
		person who helped create the nonviolent movement around the world; he 
		once said that you can't change the world if you haven't changed. 
		
		If you want to change the world, the change has to happen with you first 
		and that is something that the greatest and most honorable of 
		generations has taught us, but the final thing that I think the Moses 
		generation teaches us is to remind ourselves that we do what we do 
		because God is with us. You know, when Moses was first called to lead 
		people out of the Promised Land, he said I don't think I can do it, 
		Lord. I don't speak like Reverend Lowery. I don't feel brave and 
		courageous and the Lord said I will be with you. Throw down that rod. 
		Pick it back up. I'll show you what to do. The same thing happened with 
		the Joshua generation.
		
		Joshua said, you know, I'm scared. I'm not sure that I am up to the 
		challenge, the Lord said to him, every place that the sole of your foot 
		will tread upon, I have given you. Be strong and have courage, for I am 
		with you wherever you go. Be strong and have courage. It's a prayer for 
		a journey. A prayer that kept a woman in her seat when the bus driver 
		told her to get up, a prayer that led nine children through the doors of 
		the little rock school, a prayer that carried our brothers and sisters 
		over a bridge right here in Selma, Alabama. Be strong and have courage.
		
		
		When you see row and row of state trooper facing you, the horses and the 
		tear gas, how else can you walk? Towards them, unarmed, unafraid. When 
		they come start beating your friends and neighbors, how else can you 
		simply kneel down, bow your head and ask the Lord for salvation? When 
		you see heads gashed open and eyes burning and children lying hurt on 
		the side of the road, when you are John Lewis and you've been beaten 
		within an inch of your life on Sunday, how do you wake up Monday and 
		keep on marching? 
		
		Be strong and have courage, for I am with you wherever you go. We've 
		come a long way in this journey, but we still have a long way to travel. 
		We traveled because God was with us. It's not how far we've come. That 
		bridge outside was crossed by blacks and whites, northerners and 
		southerners, teenagers and children, the beloved community of God's 
		children, they wanted to take those steps together, but it was left to 
		the Joshua's to finish the journey Moses had begun and today we're 
		called to be the Joshua's of our time, to be the generation that finds 
		our way across this river. 
		
		There will be days when the water seems wide and the journey too far, 
		but in those moments, we must remember that throughout our history, 
		there has been a running thread of ideals that have guided our travels 
		and pushed us forward, even when they're just beyond our reach, liberty 
		in the face of tyranny, opportunity where there was none and hope over 
		the most crushing despair. Those ideals and values beckon us still and 
		when we have our doubts and our fears, just like Joshua did, when the 
		road looks too long and it seems like we may lose our way, remember what 
		these people did on that bridge.
		
		Keep in your heart the prayer of that journey, the prayer that God gave 
		to Joshua. Be strong and have courage in the face of injustice. Be 
		strong and have courage in the face of prejudice and hatred, in the face 
		of joblessness and helplessness and hopelessness. Be strong and have 
		courage, brothers and sisters, those who are gathered here today, in the 
		face of our doubts and fears, in the face of skepticism, in the face of 
		cynicism, in the face of a mighty river. 
		
		Be strong and have courage and let us cross over that Promised Land 
		together. Thank you so much everybody. 
		
		God bless you.
Audio Source: C-SPAN.org
Page Updated: 12/6/23
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